


Snowed In

by twoheadedenby



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Femslash February
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-22 03:54:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9582326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twoheadedenby/pseuds/twoheadedenby
Summary: Hilda and Ysayle are determined to make the peace pact between their communities work, whatever it takes.





	

Ysayle strained to see past the perimeter of Gorgagne Mills, anxiously trying to make out human silhouettes against a dense wall of fog. The weather had taken a sharp turn sometime in the last bell or two, and visibility had all but deserted the farmstead. 

 _Why today, of all days?_ She wondered. _Why now, of all times?_  

This meeting had to go well. It was her best – and perhaps last – chance to establish any kind of meaningful channels with the people of the Brume. The remaining heretics under her leadership all but depended on it. To say nothing of her personal need to make amends. 

She had made the rounds a half-dozen times already by now. People were beginning to worry about her catching chill, but she insisted. If Hilda and her people were out here in these conditions, it was the least she could do to brave them too. 

 _If_ they were out there. The thought had crossed the mind of every soul on watch by now. None had felt the need to voice it. Everyone knew it was an ever-dawning possibility. 

\---

 Ysayle had worn a circular rut in the snow by the time the flickering lanterns at the fence-line of the farm illuminated the grey silhouettes of the travellers.

 Hilda and her cohort emerged from the dusky grey of the horizon nearly all at once; from silhouettes to fully formed people before Ysayle had time to fully process the transition. She breathed a long sigh of relief, momentarily wreathing her in clouded air.

 "Gods!” exclaimed Hilda, approaching Ysayle with a grin on her face, marred only slightly by her chattering teeth. “You’d think Halone herself had it in for us today.”

 “I hope not,” replied Ysayle, absently tapping her fingers on her arm. “It’s not as if we want for opposition.”

 Hilda laughed at her own comment, since it was evident nobody else was going to. “Suppose I should expect heretics to take the act of disrespecting gods a mite more serious than that.”

 “You’ll not find much heresy afoot here these days,” said Ysayle. “There are none left who see much use in heeding that particular call any more. Only the tired, poor, and hungry.”

 “Well. Let’s see what we can do about that, eh?” Hilda hoisted the two crates she was holding for emphasis. Each of her two travelling companions was carrying two of their own. “Now, if you don’t mind, we’ve been hauling these bloody things for hours.”

 Ysayle gasped. “My manners have deserted me! Please, come inside at once. You can set them down just inside the door. We’ll sort through the contents later.”

 Hilda turned her head back over her shoulder and shouted. “You heard the lady! Sooner we get these inside, sooner we can all get to thawing ourselves!”

 This time, Ysayle did laugh.

 ---

 “I’m sorry it ain’t much. Folks were reluctant to give up much in the way of their hard-won supplies. Not for something so many were sure was naught more than a lofty ideal.” Hilda gazed dejectedly at the modest pile of crates piled in the entry room.

 “Well, I’m afraid they may yet be right. I can only thank you and your people for taking a gamble on us like this,” said Ysayle.

 “I wouldn’t call ‘em _my_ people.”

 “Perhaps not. But you must hold some great sway with them if you could convince them to spare anything of their own to suit the plans of the woman who caused them so much pain.”

 “I don’t know if I think that’s fair. This is a good thing you’re doing. For all of us.”

 “Be that as it may, they have every reason to think me their enemy still. It’s not as though I haven’t come to resent myself at times, too.”

 “They weren’t in your boots back then, though. Who am I or anyone to say what we’d have done in your stead?”

 “Oh, do not mistake me, Hilda. I’ve no intention of making apologies for the actions of the younger, more naive woman I was. Nonetheless, it falls to me now to make amends for her mistakes.”

 “That’s an awful thoughtful response.”

 “I’ve had a lot of time to think.”

 The air fell silent for a time, save the crackle of the hearth fire. It was currently burning only a scant handful of logs – still more than the people at the farmstead really had to spare, but Ysayle had insisted on a greater measure of hospitality. To this end, a tea kettle rested on a table in the centre of the common room, with slightly dirty and very chipped porcelain cups stacked beside it.

Hilda’s three travelling companions were clearly fighting off a wave of sleep and sat in mostly silence. Ysayle, however, was nursing her tea, more interested in the conversation than in getting her rest.

 “Tell me,” she said. “I can believe a sufficiently charismatic figure could win at least a handful of her… peers on side. But I have to wonder what it was, exactly, that won _you_ over in the first place.”

 Hilda laughed. “Simple.”

 Ysayle sipped her tea, looking confused.

 "It was you.”

 “ _Me?_ ”

 “Aye. I know we’ve had a scant few chances to meet with each other, but I’m sure now as when we first met that you’re a woman worth trusting.”

 “How odd.”

 “Don’t seem odd to me.”

 “You’re in rare company, then. Yours is far from the consensus opinion of me in Ishgard.”

 “As though I could give a toss what they say in Ishgard. I can trust my own judgement, and that means I can trust you.”

 Ysayle cast her eyes down. “I’m more grateful than I could express, Hilda. I can only hope to ensure your trust is not misplaced.”

 “I’m sure you will.”

 “On that subject,” Ysayle said, “shall I show you downstairs? Our part of this little exchange of ours awaits.”

 “If you’d like! I didn’t mean to impose like this when we set out, but I’m sure you’ll agree there’s no sense in lugging more heavy supplies back tonight with the weather like this. Still, I’m happy to see what you’ve got for us tonight.”

 “Follow me then,” said Ysayle, rising gracefully from her armchair and heading towards the stairs.

 ---

Ysayle’s quarters were, unsurprisingly to Hilda, quite spartan. A simple bed against one wall, a small prayer shrine in one corner, a small pile of books stacked neatly on a table. Nearer to the entrance lay a number of wooden crates, numbering somewhere between ten and twelve by her estimation.

 “Ysayle, look at this!” She exclaimed. “You’ve outdone us twofold at least.”

 “I realise now this is more than your team might be able to carry. I can have a couple of people assigned to escort the rest along with you.”

 “I won’t hear of it,” said Hilda. “We’ll come back for them another time. If this is the generosity we can expect, there ought to be plenty more of these exchanges in the future.”

 “Very well. They’ll be waiting here for you.”

 Hilda poked inquisitively into one of the crates.

 “We did as best to gather everything you asked for as we could. Clothes, mostly, tools and sewing supplies, first aid.”

 “You’ve excelled at it, from the looks,” said Hilda, holding a spool of thread up to her eye.

 “We’re anxious to make a good impression. _I’m_ anxious to make a good impression.”

 “Consider it made,” she said, a little awestruck.

 “I’m relieved to hear it,” Ysayle replied.

 “You pulled out all the stops…” Hilda trailed off when her eyes alighted on something in one of the boxes. “By the Twelve, look at _this_!”

 She held a garment in the air triumphantly, a fuzzy woollen sweater. It had seen better days, and one of the sleeves was a garishly different colour where the garment-maker had clearly run out of thread.

 “Is there a problem?” asked Ysayle, somewhat concerned.

 “It looks comfortable and warm as anything,” she answered. “I wish I had one of my own.”

 “I suppose looking unsightly is a price worth paying for comfort,” Ysayle offered.

 Hilda held the sweater to her chest and showed it off. In a voice of mock surprise she said, “I’m sure I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”

 Ysayle giggled. “You’re right, of course. You’ve never looked more dashing.”

 “You sure about that?”

 Ysayle didn’t respond. The silence was somewhat telling.

 “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you jealous.” Hilda grinned impishly and returned to rummaging, looking for a suitable match. She re-emerged with a padded jacket, covered in patched holes and altogether lumpy. Hilda gleefully tossed it to Ysayle. “Put it on!”

 “Oh, I couldn’t possibly...”

 “C’mon!” said Hilda, unbuttoning her jacket and letting it fall to the floor. “As a sign of our new treaty.”

 “I suppose I don’t really have a choice in this, then.”

 “Not really.”

 Ysayle sighed and threw the jacket on, craning her neck to try and get a look at herself in it.

 “I fear I look like a walking oven mitt,” she said.

 Hilda burst out laughing. “You’re right about that,” she said between gales. “A fancy one, at least.”

 A crooked smile cracked Ysayle’s composure. Hilda, meanwhile, had shrugged on the sweater and her body had disappeared in an instant, replaced by an amorphous woolly mass. She looked unspeakably proud of herself.

 “Here,” she said, stepping closer to adjust the balance with which the jacket rested on Ysayle’s shoulders. It had been somewhat askew, but she tugged at the bottom of it until it sat just right. “Perfect.”

 Ysayle struggled to say something in response. Hilda was suddenly _very_ close.

 “It’s getting late.” Hilda’s face had turned serious. “I should be getting to bed… Unless you’d like me to stay.”

 “I think… I think I’d like that.”

 “That’s what I’ve been waiting to hear.” Hilda leaned up and pressed her lips to Ysayle’s.

 Ysayle froze at first, in shock. It took her a couple of seconds to process enough of what was happening to kiss Hilda back. Her shorter stature had her tugging on Ysayle, somewhat absolving her of the need to press back against her lips. A relief, since she wasn’t sure she had the fortitude to do so.

Hilda seemed to be enjoying herself, at least. She was fighting off a smile, trying to keep her lips neutral to better slip them between Ysayle’s. She had anticipated Ysayle’s unpreparedness, and worked to silently guide her through a combination of body language and leading by example.

Ysayle grabbed clumsily at Hilda’s back; the coarse and scratchy wool at her fingertips a jarring contrast with the gentle pull of Hilda’s mouth, and the occasional flash of teeth across her own lip.

It was Ysayle who pulled away first, feeling a little overwhelmed.

“I’ll wager you haven’t done that in a while,” Hilda said cheekily.

“Longer than I care to measure,” she admitted.

“Well, you acquitted yourself just fine,” Hilda said with a grin.

“Thank you.” Ysayle chided herself internally for the oddness of her instinctive response.

Ysayle was stripping the jacket off, all of a sudden far too hot around the collar for an additional layer of insulation.

“You know,” said Hilda, pulling the sweater off and leaving herself in her undershirt, “I can’t think of a better way to commemorate our symbolic new union.”

“Quite,” said Ysayle, finding herself a little short of breath. She gingerly offered the jacket to Hilda to put it back in the crate it had come from.

Hilda bent and picked her jacket up, electing to sling it over her shoulder rather than put it back on. “If you’ve had enough excitement for the night, I’ll make my way back upstairs, shall I?”

“Wait,” said Ysayle. “We’re still in the middle of a blizzard. If you’d like to stay a while longer... There are other ways of keeping warm on nights like this.”

She gestured with her eyes towards her bed.

“Aye,” said Hilda. “That there are.”


End file.
